


The Art of Staying Dead

by MusicalSense



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, M/M, author doesn't know what the hell he's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalSense/pseuds/MusicalSense
Summary: could be a backstory, could be a hot mess.





	The Art of Staying Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This is unfinished but I'm still putting it out there cuz I don't want it to collect dust on my usb stick of shame any longer. dont read it

The year was 2019 and Gerard Way was dead.

He had been killed when the Dracs took over what was left of Los Angeles, burned to death in his own house together with his younger brother Mikey. Their neighbours had called the fire station as soon as they saw the smoke coming from the apartment building but every help came to late. All they could save from the ruins of their flat were a few singed articles of clothing, a collection of surprisingly intact vinyl records, and a hair straightener that was officially announced as the cause of the fire. 

Officially, none of the witnesses had seen the two hooded figures escaping the apartment when it started burning. Officially, the police officer investigating the case wasn’t a close friend of the comic book artist and his brother and officially, their dead bodies had been found and identified. 

Unofficially, Gerard was currently arguing passionately with Mikey while his brother rubbed bleach into his jet black hair.

“I just don’t get why you didn’t have to bleach your whole head! Do you have any idea how long it took me to grow my hair out, Mikes? Years! Years that will be wasted if you continue to rub chemicals into it!”

Mikey sighed. He sighed a lot, these days. “I wouldn’t have to bleach it this long if you wouldn’t have dyed it black for the last eight years.”

“It worked great with my eye colour and you know it.”

“It was literally just black.”

“Whatever.” Gerard scoffed and squinted at his reflection whose roots were currently turning a muddy orange colour. “Why do I have to go full blonde while you only shaved off you sides?”

Mikey shrugged and continued to assault his scalp with hydrogen peroxide. He was wearing plastic gloves, Gerard noted and the skin on his head started to itch suspiciously. 

“We have to get rid of your luscious dark locks so the Dracs don’t recognize us at first glance.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he talked about his hair. “And their focus has always been more on you. It wasn’t me who drew a caricature of their boss and published it under his own name.”

“In retrospect that wasn’t the smartest move.” he admitted. “But how was I supposed to know that they would try to literally KILL us?”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought that the murderous species of highly intelligent zombies was going to be offended by you calling their leader a ‘pathetic, ruffle-wearing new-age Dracula?’”

Gerard was getting ready to snap back when he heard a key turn in the lock to the apartment. “Ray? Is that you?” he called out.

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s that smell? Are you cooking meth?”

“Nah, we’re bleaching Gee’s hair.”

“Oh let me see!” There was the sound of chucks squeaking on linoleum and Ray’s afro peeked through the door frame. When he spotted Gerard, he started laughing frantically.

“Stop that!” Gerard yelled angrily. Ray only started to laugh harder. He turned towards Mikey and wheezed “That’s your idea of an ‘unsuspecting cover identity?’ Yellow hair?”

Mikey frowned. Well, he didn’t really frown, his face didn’t move enough for that, but Gerard could tell that he was annoyed. “You should have been more precise in your instructions then. We aren’t all police officers with years of experience in undercover work.”

Gerard quickly interrupted their bickering “That’s great guys but could someone please rinse the chemicals out of my hair? My scalp is on fire.”

“Apropos fire,” Ray started as Mikey grabbed the showerhead and directed the stream of water at Gerard’s head “I asked my source from the resistance and he said that the Dracs fell for our little maneuver. Gerard Arthur Way and Michael Way died in the fire they started and no-one besides us knows that the two of you are alive. We are going to get the two of you out of this hellhole as soon as possible, preferably even tonight.”

“We?” Mikey asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Me and the mystery source.” Ray replied with a grin. “You’ll like him.”

Mikey’s answer was cut off by a high pitched shriek when Gerard spotted himself in the mirror. “My hair is yellow!”

\---------------------------------------------

An hour later, Gerard was coming back from the shop. He opened the door to the apartment, careful not to make a noise while entering. Technically he wasn’t supposed to leave the flat in case one of the dracs on the street recognized him, but he simply couldn’t live with the mess on his head; he’d rather be dead than walk around looking like a lemon. Originally, He had been looking for black dye when he went to the tiny store on their street, but the shop seemed to have been raided quite recently and while he appreciated not having to pay for his purchase, that meant there weren’t lots of colour options to chose from.

Musing about how the “Auburn Mist” dye would come out like on his hair, he closed the door and locked it, when WHAM! Suddenly he was being pummeled from behind. His attacker knocked the breath out of him and pinned his hands to his back.  
“Ow! Ow, what the hell? It’s me, Gerard!”

“Prove it!” the guy snarled and kept him pressed against the door. Gerard’s nose started to hurt from being squished.

“Leave him, Ghoul. He’s alright.” Ray’s voice amused voice came from behind them. His attacker, Frank apparently, let go of his wrists and Gerard scrambled away from him quickly, squinting in the dim light to get a look at this guy. Frank was… tiny. He was surprised that a person this small could be this strong, but maybe it was right what they were saying about short people being closer to hell. He let his gaze travel upwards and saw lots of tattoos, a ray gun in a holster on his thigh, black, shoulder-length hair, and a smirk that was currently directed at him, or rather his yellow hair. 

“Is that your mystery source?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest in attempt to keep at least some of his dignity.

“Actually, I go by Frank.” the man replied. “Nice to meet you.”

Ray tsk-ed at them. “You aren’t supposed to give out your real name, Ghoul.”

Frank turned towards him and pouted exaggeratedly. “But how are the Dracs going to know who shot their sorry ass if I can’t even leave a note with my name?”

Ray groaned and shook his head. “I can’t even… this is too much. First Gerard with his stupid satire doodles, now you. Are you actively trying to get yourselves killed?” When Gerard opened his mouth to answer, Ray raised a hand in defeat and turned away. “Don’t answer, it’s too late at night for this conversation. I’ll wake you up in four hours when it’s time to get you out of town.”

Gerard glared at his back before turning around to face Frank again. “Ghoul?” he asked, sitting down on their ratty couch and raising both eyebrows. (Both because he, contrary to Mikey, hadn’t mastered the art of the Single Eyebrow Raise.)

“Fun Ghoul. It’s my alias since I joined the resistance. Sounds a little more impressive than Frank, don’t you think?” Frank said and slouched on the couch next to Gerard.

“It sounds like a superhero name.” he replied. “But not necessarily a very good one. What’s it like, fighting with the resistance?”

Skimming over the insult, the other man answered. “Not as exciting as I thought it would be. I mostly do undercover jobs, trying to find out what the Dracs are up to. I was the one who warned Ray that they were after you and Mikey.”

“Thanks for that.” Gerard said. “Mikey was so mad at me for signing this stupid caricature with my own name. Sometimes I regret that I even put it out there.”

“Are you kidding me?” Frank asked. “That thing was genius! We put it up as a motivational poster in our hideout and let the newbies practise knife throwing with it!”

Gerard laughed. “I’m glad it’s been useful for something at least.”

“No, I’m serious. You’ve made yourself quite the name, on both sides. If you ever feel like joining our secret ninja club, you’d be welcomed with open arms.”

He scrunched up his nose. “I don’t know if that would be something for me. I mean, I really want to help against the Dracs but I’m crap at any kind of martial arts.” And of course, there was also Mikey whom he could never leave alone, let alone drag him into a fight that might end with both of them dead. In an attempt to change the topic, he asked “Anyways, I wanted to ask you about the Dracs. I don’t know much about them since I’ve been more of a bystander for the past two years, but you seem to be an expert at what you do.”

Frank snorted. “I’m not an expert but I can give you the outline of what went on over the past few years.” He settled into the couch more comfortably. “As you probably know, the Draculoids - or Dracs, as you call them - have been genetically engineered and stripped of individuality by a company called BL/ind. The guy on your caricature, Korse is one of their leaders, as far as I know. The Dracs may seem like zombies, but they aren’t actually undead. They simply aren’t able to think for themselves anymore.”

Gerard swallowed hard. “Do you think they are going to take over the world?”

Frank threw him a pitying glance. “Honey, they already have. Getting rid of us is simply the cleanup.”

\-----------------------  
Gerard entered his and Mikey’s bedroom after excusing himself for the night. Frank seemed to be sleeping on the couch, with a hand on his ray gun and his shoes still on his feet. He laid down on his bed, listening to Mikey’s a little too regular breathing and waiting for him to start talking. After a few moments, his brother said “You want to join them, don’t you?”

Gerard sighed. He knew that he had listened to his conversation with Frank. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I’m not going to leave you alone.”

He heard the rustling of sheets as Mikey turned towards him. “Like hell you’d leave! We’re both going to join them.”

“Mikey…”

“No, don’t even get me started. I know you want to. We are going to become Killjoys and kick the Dracs’ asses and wear funky clothes and shoot ray guns. Okay?”

“Killjoys?”

“Didn’t Ghoul tell you? That’s what they call themselves.”

Gerard snorted. “That’s an interesting name.” After a pause, he added “You know that we’ll need aliases, right?”

“I don’t think that is going to become a problem for the two of us.” Mikey replied cheerfully. “Do you remember the comic you wrote for me in fourth grade?”

He felt a smile spread on his face. “Yeah. That might work.” He whispered and got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To dye my hair. I will not join the resistance looking like a citrus fruit.”

“Fair enough.”

\-------------------------

When it was time for them to go, Gerard had had exactly zero (0) sleep and two (2) cans of red bull and he felt fantastic. “Rise and shine, sweetheart!” he yelled at Frank’s sleeping form and hit him in the face with a pillow. 

“Ouch.” He groaned and opened his eyes, staring in bewilderment as his gaze landed on Gerard. “Why… is your head this bright?”

Gerard frowned. He knew that “Auburn Mist” hadn’t turned out exactly how it said on the tin but he was actually quite fond of the firetruck red mess of hair on his head. “It’s called hair dye.” He replied defensively. “Is it really that terrible?”

Frank was still staring at him but he seemed to have gotten past his initial confusion. “No! It’s a nice colour! I think it’s pretty…” He finger-gunned at Gerard and winked “...rad.”

Ray chose this moment to enter the room with an epic case of bedhead and a frown that was directed at Gerard’s hair. “This isn’t exactly unsuspecting now, is it?”

“Could we please stop talking about my hair and get going? And by the way, Gerard Way is dead.” He looked at Frank’s and Ray’s expectant faces and silently cursed Mikey for not being there for the dramatic effect. “Mikey.” He hissed and waited until his brother had joined them in the living room. He cleared his throat and started again. “Gerard Way and Mikey Way are dead. From now on, my name is…” He paused. Mikey kicked him. He winced and continued. “... Party Poison.”

“Yeah and my alias is Kobra Kid and we are going to join the Killjoys if we ever get out of this city alive and now could we please get going before the sun rises and we have to wait yet another day? Thanks.”

Gerard shrugged off their questioning glances and said. “It’s a sibling thing; you don’t have to get the names.”

And just like that, the two of them became a (for the time being) unofficial part of the Fabulous Killjoys, the most feared and well-dressed resistance group of LA.

Of course, good things never last long. 

Everything had gone suspiciously well until now. They hadn’t encountered any Draculoids on the streets and for some reason not even near the border of the city. Gerard knew that Ray had asked his ex-colleagues at the station to clear their way before he quit, but still… they odds of them being incredibly lucky were pretty low. Their group was nearing the desert where they had almost no cover and he was feeling weirdly exposed on the empty streets, telling himself repeatedly that he was being paranoid. 

Frank - Ghoul, now that they weren’t in a safe space anymore - was the one who heard it first, the faint sound of wheels on asphalt.

“Run!” He screamed, drawing his ray gun and turning towards the noise that was approaching very fast now. 

“We are not going to leave you alone!” Gerard yelled and Mikey joined in “Don’t be stupid, just run with us, Ghoul.” 

Ghoul turned around, presumably to argue some more with them, but the Van was almost there. About 50 yards away from them, the white vehicle stopped and Dracs stormed out. Gerard counted seven of them, too many for the four of them to take on alone.

“Does anyone have a plan? Ghoul? Jet?” He whispered. Ray was mumbling into his walkie talkie. “... about seven of them… yeah I know. Yeah… hurry up. Jet Star over.” He turned towards them and said “Four more minutes, Show Pony is coming with the van. Kid, Poison? Stay behind Ghoul and me, try not to get shot. Cover your faces and die with your masks on, if you’ve got to.”

The Dracs were within shooting range now and promptly started to shoot rapidfire ray beams at them. Ghoul and Jet were firing in the same manner from their own ray guns at them, retreating towards the desert. A beam almost hit Gerard - Poison - in the leg and he curse, pulling Mikey behind him. The first Drac to reach them promptly threw himself at Poison and he kicked him in the shin, fighting him off instinctively. Everything became a blur of colours and sounds, hitting, kicking, biting, scratching. Grab his gun, shoot him. Turn around. Duck. Punch him in the groin. Don’t think, act.

He was honestly surprised at how good the four of them were doing, considering neither he nor Kid had any kind of martial arts background. The four minutes were almost over and back-up was soon to arrive. What he almost missed - almost - was the Drac he had kicked down moments ago lifting his gun and pointing it at Mikey. Everything seemed to slow down.  
“Mikey!” He yelled, panic in his voice. Mikey turned around in slow motion, looked at him, looked at the Drac. Tried to dodge the shot. Failed. Got hit in the chest. Fell.

Gerard shot the Drac in the back with his own gun (heaven knows where he got it from, maybe he had picked it up from the ground?) and ran towards his brother who was laying on the ground, unmoving. 

“Mikey! No, please, no… Mikey, hey, look at me. Everything will be alright, okay? Wake up. Please wake up, please…” He started to babble, cradling Mikey’s body in his arms. They seemed to be in their own little bubble, unaware of the fight going on around them. 

“Mikey…”

He was interrupted by Ghoul slamming into his shoulder and yelling “Poison! The van is here, we have to go! Now!”

“I can’t!” Gerard yelled, not letting go of his brother. “Mikey is unconscious!”

A pained expression flickered across Ghoul’s Face and he said urgently “Poison, Kid is dead. We have to leave him behind. Please, come on.”

“No!” Gerard insisted stubbornly, trying not to think, not to notice how Mikey was stiff in his grip like a doll. “I can save him, I just need… I just…”

“I’m so sorry.” Ghoul said sincerely and hauled a screaming and kicking Gerard away from Mikey and into the colourful van that had come to their rescue. He slammed the door shut after them and yelled “Drive, Pony! They’re right behind us!”

Besides Ray, Jet, and Ghoul, there were two other people in the Vehicle: the driver who he assumed was Show Pony and another bearded guy in leggings who was studying Gerard’s expression intently. He was aware that he was a mess, shaking and possibly also crying, but he didn’t have the will to pull himself back together. Mikey… no. He couldn’t think of that right now. Wouldn’t. He had to set priorities. 

“There are only three of you. Who did you leave behind?” The bearded man asked, not taking his gaze off Gerard.

“We… we lost Kobra Kid, sir.” Ray replied shakily.

The guy nodded in his direction and murmured “Thanks, Jet. I know you gave your best.” He extended a hand towards Gerard and introduced himself. “Dr. Death Defying. I see, you’ve already fought in your first battle. Not how we usually treat our newbies, but... “ He shrugged.  
“What can you do? The desert’s unforgiving and cruel. Welcome to the Killjoys, Gerard Way.”

Gerard swallowed hard and took his hand, holding his gaze as he shook it. “Thanks for the heads-up.” He said and smiled bitterly. “But Gerard Way is dead. Call me Party Poison.”


End file.
